


Around

by creambee



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s), post office worker! younghyun, post-breakup! wonpil, youngfeel, youngpil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22490029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creambee/pseuds/creambee
Summary: Wonpil thinks his youth is over, that he'll never find a love so beautiful as the one he just got left behind in. Then he meets YoungK, and suddenly life seems bigger than he's ever experienced it as before.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Kim Wonpil
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chilly

The weather outside had turned gray and chilly, the bleak autumn sky sharply contrasting with the warm jewel tones of leaves on trees. The air had an unforgivable bite to it, as if it was raging against the city's inhabitants. Yet the city’s lights glowed with unparalleled warmth, the fall season heralded with the customary putting up of string lights around lamp posts. Their light reflected in Kim Wonpil’s eyes as he gazed out the window of a moving city bus, alone on the streets at this hour of night. His head rested against the vibrating glass, which was also fogged over from the cold, yet he didn’t seem to notice. His large, endearingly crossed eyes which had once been soft and full of life now held a blank, wounded stare that no warmth or light seemed able to penetrate. Wonpil, like all the people in the city, was also thinking of the changing season, but he felt no splendor, no warmth in his chest at the thought. 

What makes people’s hearts go cold? He wondered. Is the change in people's hearts as inevitable as the change in seasons? Disregarding the other person’s feelings, the weather in one’s heart can lose warmth as naturally as the coming of winter. But what if I can help it? What if I don’t want this eternal summer in my heart ever to go away? Wonpil heaved a long sigh as if in response to his own questions. It was difficult, longing for something that wasn’t there—or hadn’t been there in a long time. What had been the exact moment where there had been a chill in the air—and a quiver in her heart—signaling a turn in the seasons? Wonpil wanted to know. He knew winter was fast approaching, and it was already dreary winter in her heart. Despite knowing that it would do no good anymore, Wonpil wanted to know exactly when his jokes stopped making her laugh like no one was watching, when his loving gaze was no longer reciprocated by her sparkling black eyes, when his love just wasn’t enough for the both of them anymore. Wonpil closed his eyes, feeling them sting beneath his eyelids. To any other person on the bus, he might seem like an ordinary commuter, taking a short respite before arriving at work. The reality was that Wonpil was a man with a plagued mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, the memories he made with her flashed across his mind like a movie and he found himself longing desperately to see her and ask what she was doing. He was dying with curiosity. His mind raced, fluctuating constantly between wanting to go to her and accepting that she was gone. The parcel Wonpil held in his hands didn’t help either. Its contents—his ex’s sweater and the mug she’d kept in his apartment—only served to remind him further that she was no longer his. Still, Wonpil felt it was the right thing to do, returning them. He didn’t want to trouble her by making her believe he held onto her stuff because he still harbored feelings for her—which, by all accounts, was true—but he didn’t want to hurt her at the very end. She deserved to move on, even if he couldn’t.

The hiss of the bus doors opening shook Wonpil out of his reverie. He hadn’t even felt the bus stop. Gazing out the window, he saw the city post office tower up ahead. He excused himself and quickly made his way off the bus clutching the package, head held low. As the bus drove away, Wonpil stared at the short black letters on the front of the post office and took a deep breath. He was leaving behind an illustrious chapter in his life by doing this, and now he could only look back on those spark-filled summer nights, never again to be a part of those memories. 

Somewhere from the depths of his troubled mind, he drew up the resolve to take a step forward through the spinning doors and into the post office.

…

Youngk was about to fall asleep on the job. As his eyes fluttered shut and his head bobbed dangerously lower, this seemed a better idea. Sleep, sleep, his woozy brain told him. Youngk smiled vaguely. Just as his head was about to hit the post office counter, a soft voice interrupted his drowsy reverie.  
“Excuse me, I have a package,” said the voice.  
Youngk straightened and smacked his lips, embarrassingly. As he blinked his bleary eyes, a face swam in front of his view. A face with warm brown eyes, red hair, and mouth set in a perpetually sad twist. The man clutched a small, lumpy package tightly in his hands like it was something he couldn’t bear to let go of.  
“Ah, yes. We’ll have to weigh it to determine the shipping fee,” Youngk said, gesturing for the man to set the package on the counter. He did, with reluctance. Youngk took it to the storeroom in the back and waited for the scale to zero itself out. As he was waiting, his coworker Jae came in and smacked his shoulder.   
“What?” Youngk said with a yawn.  
“The guy you’re helping is really cute,” Jae whispered, his mischievous dimples out in all their glory.  
“Why don’t you date him then?” Youngk said, annoyed.  
“Watch out, Brian. I actually might.” Jae winked. Youngk rolled his eyes.  
“Anyways. Whatever.” Youngk weighed the package, then took it back out to the counter.   
“That’ll be $17.46. Also, what did you fill it with, rocks?” Youngk joked.  
No, just the pieces of my heart, Wonpil thought, but he still let out a laugh at the Brian’s bad joke. He looked nice while laughing, noted Youngk. Even if it did look a little strained. The man set his phone down on the counter as he fished for the correct change. Upon retrieving it, he handed it to Youngk, who printed out his receipt and tapped the package in his hands.   
“It’s all done. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said.  
“Thank you. You too,” the man replied with a brief, taut smile. Youngk watched his plaid-covered back as he left the post office.   
Jae walked by and smacked Youngk over the head with a roll of packing tape. “I told you he was cute.”  
“Okay, okay! Fine, I’ll admit it, he’s kinda cute. Can you please go away now? And actually do your work, like I’ve never seen you do?”   
Jae giggled. “But slacking off’s my specialty, BriBri.”  
Youngk scowled. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s Youngk? YOUNGK! YOUNG KANG!”  
Jae patted his head consolingly. “Okay, young grasshopper.” Jae dropped his hand and pointed to the counter. “Hey, isn’t that Cute Guy’s phone?”

“Eh? What are you talking about?" Youngk looked back. It did appear that his last customer had left his phone. Youngk lunged for it before Jae, who was mumbling something about nudes, could get his hands on it. He turned it over in his palm. On the back, inside the case, was a Polaroid of a boy and a beautiful girl holding each other’s faces and pouting at the camera. Written below the image were the words Pirrie and Mirrie. With a shock, Youngk realized that the carefree boy in the picture was the same sad-looking man he’d just encountered, except in the picture he had black hair. In any case, Youngk had to return the phone to him. He vaulted over the counter and raced out the spinning doors of the post office, ignoring Park Jaehyung’s screams to come back. Head swivelling around frantically, Youngk scanned the city streets for the red-haired man. He finally spotted him standing at a bus stop a ways down the block. Relieved, Youngk began walking in his direction. His eyes widened when he noticed the approaching bus. “Oh no,” Youngk groaned, breaking into a sprint. Just as the bus stopped and the man was about to embark, Youngk ran up to him and held out his phone. The man jumped back a little, his eyes bearing a questioning look. Youngk stood catching his breath, at least a head taller than the man. The lamppost lights shone on his long hair and bounced off his long, dangly earrings as his chest heaved up and down. The smaller man blinked nervously, not processing what was going on.   
“You’re. . .”  
“You . . . left your phone at the post office,” Youngk panted. “And now, you’d better get on your bus if you don’t want to miss it.”  
Wonpil took the phone from him slowly, as if in a daze. “Oh. . .” he breathed. He heard the hiss of the bus doors closing, and turned around once again to gaze at the man. Brian Kang, read the nametag on his chest. Wonpil tore his eyes away from him and jumped onto the bus.


	2. Chapter 2

On the way back home, Wonpil couldn’t stop thinking about the man and the strange effect he seemed to yield on Wonpil. What was this charged feeling, this magnetism he detected when laying eyes on the man? He wondered. By the time he got off the bus and unlocked the front door of his tiny apartment, he had decided to brush off the events that had transpired today.

But the truth is, Wonpil didn’t stop thinking about the man. He turned over their encounter in his mind so much that he eventually reasoned to himself that it was too much to hope for if he met the man again, and that the chances of this happening was next to none in this big, bustling city. Therefore, Wonpil was in the process of this “forgetting” when he met him again. 

It was a miracle, but it happened one day. It was because Wonpil’s competitive nature kicked in as it usually did. He was at the grocery store right before it was closing down, and he spotted the last baguette on the bakery shelves. Perfect, he thought as he reveled in his victory. He needed a baguette for his friend Dowoon’s birthday cake. Wonpil made a beeline for the bread and was about to put it into his cart when somebody laid their hand on it and snatched it out of his view. He gasped and looked up dubiously at his intruder, only to find his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the mysterious man. The man stared at him blankly before registering his face and breaking into a winning smile. Wonpil gulped.  
“Oh, it is you! The guy from the post office!” Youngk exclaimed, gesturing with the baguette at Wonpil, who looked like he was about to spontaneously combust.  
Wonpil blushed. “Er . . . yes . . . that is, the baguette—”  
“Oh, this?” The man held it out to Wonpil. “You can have it.”  
Weirdly, Wonpil’s heart started beating faster. He accepted the loaf with hesitant hands and a downcast gaze. “That’s really nice of you . . .” he whispered.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Youngk grinned. “I wouldn’t take it from someone I know, at least. But if it was a stranger . . .” Wonpil chuckled at this. “Anyways, good seeing you again. Enjoy the rest of your evening!” Youngk saluted. 

Wonpil didn’t know what to say to this, so he just bowed and shot him a faint but sincere smile, baguette held at an awkward angle in his arms, like a sword in its scabbard. What he didn’t know was that as Youngk sped out of the grocery store aisle, he was chastising his stupid brain for saying that to Wonpil like he was another post office customer. Youngk cursed his strong employee instincts, which only seemed to come to him in the wrong situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this really short update, so to make up for it I'll post a long chapter next time in which a lot of stuff happens. Have a good week everyone!!

**Author's Note:**

> This has been lying in my drafts for a while anddd I barely have motivation to continue it so please comment if you would like to see more chapters. Thank you!! :))


End file.
